The Secret Heiress Loved By Four Novels & Stories

LET THEM OPEN IT. BECAUSE ONCE THEY DO, ANASTASIA WILL FINALLY LEARN WHO HER MOTHER WAS RUNNING FROM. A sudden chill swept down the hallway. Jaxon instantly reached for his sidearm while I stared at the glowing screen in my hands. Whoever had been hunting me didn't just know about Clara's hidden treasure. they knew we had the key, and they were actively waiting for us to use it. Whatever Clara had buried inside that box wasn't just a secret about her past; it was the truth that would finally bring my stalker out of the shadows.

"Or did you finally find what Julian keeps in the blue binder?" ​My heart stopped. I looked at him, my breath hitching. "What do you know about that?" ​Marcus smirked, but there was no humor in it. "I know that Julian Vane never does anything for love. And I know that the 'Hidden Heir' accounts aren't the only secret in this house." He glanced toward Julian, who was currently laughing with a senator. "Did he tell you about the girl before you? The one who lived in this room before your mother moved in?"

"The Golds are maids? Does that even make any sense to you?" "You should know, young mistress, that I have been searching for you for years. So I have proof. Enough of it. They thought they'd taken everything you and your parents owned. But what they stole was only just a percentage of your real wealth. I've been searching for you to reclaim your throne as the last heiress of the Delacroix."

Callum sat behind his desk, glancing through the paper absently — until one headline caught his attention. “Hale Heiress Returns Home.” He froze. There, on the front page, was a clear photo of Zephyrine. Dressed in white, smiling, standing beside Edmund Hale. She looked radiant. Healthier. Untouchable. The paper trembled slightly in his hand. His assistant noticed. “Sir, are you alright?” He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the picture, and for the first time in years, something inside him cracked open again.

At the far end of the room, two kitchen maids whispered over a mound of carrots. “The prince would soon set out for his long walk across the east gardens,” one said. “Maybe he might take the Drakonhelm princess with him.” “I doubt it,” the other replied. “He’s been avoiding her since she arrived. Some of the other upper maids told me he always forced a smile when she’s around.” The other snored. “They say a lot of things. Last week, they said he had a secret lover. The other week, he was going to run away to sea.”

Sorcerer 1 (broken): “Three pieces… in the Hollow Choir’s vault beneath the Medical Arts Building. Two sealed in the blood of the last Strigoi King—Romania. Four hidden inside living hearts—your classmates. The final four…” He laughs through tears. “She kept those herself. You’ll have to cut them out of her chest.” I don’t flinch. Celeste: “Names of the four students.” He gives them. Two I barely know. Two I do. One is Remy’s little cousin, Lila. One is Seras’s robotics partner, Juno. The room goes very still. Remy’s growl is low enough to rattle bones.

Not because there was nothing to say but because everything we could say was too large to fit into words yet. I stared out the oval window, watching darkness swallow the wing, my reflection faintly visible in the glass. I barely recognized the woman looking back at me. Her hair was tangled, her eyes too sharp, too awake. There were faint scratches along her collarbone and wrist—souvenirs from a rooftop where the truth finally stopped hiding. I wasn’t the Hidden Heiress anymore. I wasn’t the substitute. I was the girl whose grandfather had signed her death warrant before she was old enough to understand what betrayal looked like.

His words made my heart ache. If only I could teach my heart to love Atlas, I would, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t force myself to feel something that wasn’t there. To me, Atlas was a friend—nothing more, nothing less. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s fine. Your secret's safe with me,” he assured me. He was right. All the secrets I had, he kept them, even back when we were teenagers. Not once had he ever betrayed my trust. And now, even as an adult, he was still protecting me, still keeping my foolish mistakes hidden.

An expression evident of her uneasiness. “A….Amelia!” Ava's tone dropped an octave, whispering her name. Amelia never knew the tears were trickling until she felt a warm fluid flowing on his face. The house was built basically by her mom and dad, it was raised and built with love, even when her father, Mistress, hijacked the opportunity. And with it are still some treasures that were handed down to her by her mom before her death, a locket necklace having its background fitted with only the cardinal point, the small stroke pointing towards the North.

His eyes glinted, reminding me of the lingerie I had bought just for tonight. “That does not count,” I said, trying to pout again. “Oh, it does,” he said, grinning wider. “You know how much I love when you dress up for me. You can give me a dance later, and we will call it even.” I laughed and shook my head, though I knew I would not refuse him. He slid a small wrapped box across the table, and I carefully opened it. Inside was the most delicate charm bracelet I had ever seen. Tiny charms already dangled from it, a heart, the letters H and D, a dolphin, a rose, and one engraved with the words I love you.